Prologue: Victim? Of Circumstance

Life changed permanently on January 18th, 2011.

When you work in radio, you develop a sick sort of family with your coworkers. I've worked in a lot of industries and I've never experienced more love, hate and emotion as I have in the radio biz. January 18th was, perhaps, the most emotional of all.

We all saw it coming. What started as a rumor was later confirmed and then given the finality of a D-day type date; our radio stations were being sold to new owners. Some would be invited to stay on with the new owners, some would not. Of those made offers, some would not accept.

That was the category myself and the love of my life fell into. We each had our own reasons for refusing the offers presented to us. We had had six months of warning to reflect on our roles within our company, to absorb what was happening, to really let it sink in. We knew that offers, if they were to come, would come at the 11th hour....and by then our minds were already made up.

I was already starting to feel work weary before I heard the ax was falling. When the offer came before me a few days before January 18th (D-day) I sat in my office, holding the contract in my hands. I stared at the words, trying to find justification for what I was about to do....turn down a sure thing in a very unsure economy. I am not a risk taker when it comes to my security in life. For the first time, I took that risk. I signed above the tiny printed words that read: I decline this offer. 

As Dustin and I drove away from work for the last time, we felt optimistic. We chirped reassuring things to each other all the way home. We are young. We are so smart. We can do whatever we want. We have freedom! We have each other! Things will work out!

Our next decision (mistake) was to move to the tiny cottage that my father built 20 something years ago on my mother's property. It was cheap, Dustin could garden, and we could get our shit together. Sure, there was a mold problem...and a leaky roof...a squirrel infestation...and my mother within earshot...but whatever. We weren't doing anything important...this was a chance to relax and figure things out.

Relaxing lasted just a little over a month.

On February 26th, I woke up and did something very strange. I took a pregnancy test. My period was not late. I was not trying to conceive. I was not experiencing morning sickness or an expanding waistline. I simply woke up, ridiculously early, fished out an old pregnancy test and took it.

In less than a second, a big fat plus sign was staring me in the face. My knees buckled. I had to sit on the edge of the tub. My hand was over my mouth. I was crying. Shaking. I couldn't breathe. After five...ten...fifteen minutes of staring at that plus sign, I stood up and walked out to the living room, where Dustin was sleeping peacefully in the fort we had made in the living room the night before. (Yes, we made a fort the night before I found out I was going to be someone's mother.)

I looked at him for several minutes before my body moved of its own accord. I'm not a violent person, but I biffed him awake. He sat up like he had been shot. Before he could ask me what was wrong, I blurted out:

"I just took a pregnancy test for no reason. It's positive."

Dustin: What? Oh no!

"Don't say Oh no!"

Dustin: I'm going to be sick. 

This was the first conversation he and I had as parents.

After a long weekend and about 40 more plus signs, I bullied my way into the gyno that Monday where my fears (and hopes) were confirmed. I sat numbly as the doctor piled me with paperwork...rattled off a list of things I could no longer do...and scheduled all of the necessary maternity tests. My fingers moved to type a text to Dustin that read "Congrats Daddy." My mind was looping.

Unemployed. Health Insurance about to expire. Unemployed. Living in the cottage. No money. 

Despite this dreadful loop, Dustin and I were happy. The universe had surprised us with a really big gift. We didn't know where we were going, and suddenly that was decided for us.

I happened to only be three weeks pregnant when we found out. In my mind, priority one was finding employment for both of us. ASAP.

That's when things started to fall apart.

Finding a job on Long Island that would afford us the things we wanted for our new family was impossible. We started to bleakly realize that we weren't getting scooped up, and the things we were getting offered would barely keep us afloat in the cottage.  

The cottage.

Suddenly, living with the mold was unacceptable. Who knew what it was doing to our unborn? The musty smell was making me sick. There were other problems...of both the structural and familial variety. It started to become clear that we couldn't stay there anymore.

But what were our choices with nothing in the bank?

Just when things reached a breaking point, Dustin's father offered us his gorgeous basement apartment...for free. We accepted and moved in a matter of days. Now we surveyed our lives again. Boxes surrounding us...our cats showing signs of mover's distress...and still no job prospects.

And while the basement WAS and IS gorgeous....there were problems. There was no kitchen. A pregnant woman needs a fridge and a place to cook healthy (even if cooking healthy was still something I was learning.) We literally had people on top of us. We were uncomfortable and worried. We didn't have the space to nest and get ready for this baby. We couldn't bear the thought of running out of money, living in a basement, and bringing another human being into this situation.

I cried. A lot. I cursed. A lot. Dustin did his best to remain optimistic, but even he was starting to wear down. We still couldn't find work. Then, several things happened.

-I started to show, making obtaining work even more difficult.

-My health insurance expired.

-We started talking about Leaving Long Island.


Dustin's Grandpa Joe owns a series of cabins in a beautiful part of Pennsylvania. When we started dating, Dustin took me there often. We got to know each other in a gorgeous, quiet setting over fires and blankets of snow.  We observed nature and I listened as Dustin reminisced about warm family memories...moments caught in time on Joe's "Compound" as I nicknamed it. In the warm months we swam in the creek and I watched him build dams with rocks as he had done when he was a boy. In the winter we cuddled for warmth and talked about what we wanted out of life. We fell in love to the sounds of the river and the crackling of the wood Dustin had chopped down. He would say, at least once each time we were on The Compound, how much he loved it there...and how happy he was when he was there.

Just a few weeks ago, Dustin applied for a job in Pennsylvania. The day after applying, he was called in for an interview. The day after the interview, he was made an offer.

That day, less than two weeks ago, we realized we were Leaving Long Island.

I am terrified. I am now sixteen weeks pregnant. I am about to move away from everything I've known for the past decade. Dustin is Leaving Long Island to live for the first time in his life.We're taking this baby away from its soon to be family. We're going to be in a new city, just the three of us. (Luckily one of us doesn't require a car seat or luggage yet.)

We leave on Friday.

It is my intent to document the next year of our lives. I hope that by this time next year, I am sitting with my healthy baby, laughing at how stressed I was a year ago.

It's going to be an interesting ride.